


oh how i meant to tease him

by mlmcowboy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Espionage, F/F, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious, Other Avengers Mentioned - Freeform, Sharing a Bed, Undercover, steve and bucky take the suburbs, stupid idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:10:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlmcowboy/pseuds/mlmcowboy
Summary: Steve and Bucky finally get their white picket fence. Only, they have to also sort of catch a Hydra operative. Oh, well. Can't always have your way.





	1. let me come home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have been through hell, and come out the other side. This time though... things might be a bit harder to overcome.

_ MISSION: Infiltrate BROOKWOOD and detain target. No casualties, take target alive. _

 

_ TARGET: William Greenwald _

_    6”0 _

_   215 lbs _

_   White _

_   Brown hair _

_  Brown eyes _

_ HYDRA operative,  _ **_dangerous_ ** _ , may have HYDRA weapons in house. Careful extraction  _ **_essential_ ** _. _

 

“That’s it?” Steve says. Fury narrows his eye.

 

“No, Rogers. If this was  _ it,  _ we wouldn’t be having this meeting.”

 

Steve feels his face heat up. Bucky snorts next to him. 

 

“Truth is, we don’t know much about Greenwald, or what he’s got. We’re not even sure what he did for Hydra. But we do know he’s a threat, and he’s hanging out in the suburbs for a reason,” Hill says. She sounds tired, and Steve can tell this guy must’ve been a bitch to track down. 

 

“Was he… one of ours?”

 

“No, he wasn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D mole. He’s just good at what he does, as unfortunate as that is.”

 

“So, what’s the plan?” Bucky asks. He’s got his arms crossed, and his brows pulled together. It’s his  _ I know the answer already, but I wish I didn’t  _ face. Steve’s stomach turns. 

 

“You, Steve, and Natasha will be going undercover in Brookwood. Steve and you will be… a couple.”

 

“What.”

 

“ _ What? _ ”

 

Maria sighs, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. She’s been bracing for this.

 

“We feel it would be too suspicious to have three separate people move in, even spaced apart. Coupling two of you together removes that suspicion.”

 

“So- so why not me and Natasha? Or Steve and Natasha?”

 

“With all due respect, Sergeant Barnes, this is your first field mission since uh,  _ recovering _ .”

 

Bucky bristles, and Steve knocks their shoulders together.

 

_ Easy, pal.  _

 

“While we have complete faith in Princess Shuri’s work, on the off chance that something were to happen to you, say an episode or setback, we believe that Steve would be the best person to accompany you.”

 

“I don’t need a damn babysitter,” Bucky hisses. Maria doesn’t flinch.

 

“He’s not a babysitter. You two  _ are  _ friends, just think of it as an… extended sleepover.”

 

Fury lets out a bark of laughter. Steve shakes his head, and Bucky dips his to hide his smile. 

 

“We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids,” Bucky drawls, grin creeping into his voice. 

 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Steve laughs, and the whole room seems to dissipate a little.

 

“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about your covers. Natasha has been briefed on hers already, and is set to move in tomorrow. Her name is Charlotte Miller. You do  _ not  _ know her. Please keep that in mind.”

 

“You do realize you’re sending Steve Rogers on an espionage mission, right? Mr. Do-No-Wrong?  _ Captain Idiot? _ ”

 

Maria’s face splits into a smile the same time Steve whines an indignant “Hey!”

 

“Sorry, pal, but you can’t tell a lie to save your life. You know that.”

 

“That is  _ not  _ true, I’ve told plenty of lies before, successfully-”

 

“When’s the last time you-”

 

Fury raps on the table once, twice, with his knuckles to get the boys’ attention. He has his eyebrow quirked.

 

“Well, Hill,” he says without turning away from them, “Seems like they’ve got the old married couple routine down pat already.”

 

There’s more bickering, whining, and Maria considers letting Natasha handle the mission alone so she doesn’t have to deal with these dumbasses for any longer. Eventually, they shut up long enough to learn their covers.

 

_ STEVE ROGERS: ELLIOT WILLIS _

 

_ JAMES BARNES: LUCAS ORME _

 

_ WILLIS IS 27 _

_ ORME IS 26 _

 

(“Buck! Buck- I’m older than you, look-”

 

“Absolutely  _ not,  _ I demand this be changed.”

 

“No. Let me continue.”)

 

_ NOT MARRIED. NOT ENGAGED. _

_ BEEN DATING 2 YEARS. _

_ MET THROUGH WORK.  _

_ BOTH WORK AT TECH STARTUPS, FROM HOME.  _

 

(“What the  _ fuck  _ is a tech startup?”

 

“No one really knows.”)

 

They’re loading furniture into a truck now.  _ Shoulda just bought it pre-furnished,  _ Bucky grumbles, and it’s Steve’s turn to snort. Truth is, he wishes they weren’t buying it at all. He wishes he didn’t have to sit there and  _ pretend,  _ when it would be so easy to just reach out and  _ touch- _

 

_ what are you waiting for barnes? _

 

_ you’re gonna be gone soon, might as well- _

 

_ he might not want it- _

 

_ can’t lose him- _

 

“Buck, did ya hear me?”

 

(“...on the off chance that something were to happen to you, say an episode or setback, we believe that Steve would be the best person to accompany you.”)

 

“I said, we’re gonna have to go and get sheets for the bed. We can hit up Target tomorrow or something.”

 

The bed.  _ The  _ bed. Singular. Right.  _ Cause they’re dating.  _

 

“I don’t get why we can’t just stay here until we have to move. Don’t see the fuckin’ point in moving around hotels for a week and a half.”

 

“I don’t know either, man. But hey, it’ll be like being back on tour, yeah?”

 

Bucky wrinkles his nose.

 

“Yeah, except we can’t get drunk-”

 

“I never could, in case you’re forgetting-”

 

“-we ain’t got any other friends, and we’re about to go to the  _ suburbs _ .”

 

“Could be worse,” Steve says lamely. “We could be at  _ war _ .”

 

“The suburbs  _ are  _ worse than war, pal.”

 

**___________________________**

  
  


The week passes, painfully. Bucky snores, and Steve sings in the shower, and they both have nightmares, so it’s a lot of  _ shut up,  _ and  _ are you okay?  _ and  _ get out of my fuckin’ face, man.  _ They share living quarters, yeah. But they don’t share a  _ room _ . Bucky realizes (with a twist of his gut) that this was probably why Hill had wanted them in the same hotel room for a week before moving in.  _ For practice.  _ God fucking  _ damnit _ . 

 

Smart move, though. Neither of them would have agreed to any sort of fucking  _ practice _ .

 

(Nobody knew they shared a bed back in Brooklyn. Nobody knew that once upon a time, they’d been so in sync they could predict the other’s next breath. They miss their cues sometimes, these days. They’re all off beat. It hurts.)

 

Bucky throws his toothbrush into his bag. He has his hair pulled back from his face, and Steve gives him a funny look from his perch on the windowsill. 

 

“What?” Bucky bites. It’s got no venom in it, though. 

 

“You just- I like it. Your hair, I mean. Looks… nice.”

Bucky feels something squeeze in his chest.

 

“Are you  _ flirting with me _ , Rogers?”

 

“No! I- I just, god, I thought I’d just say somethin’  _ nice,  _ you dick,” Steve splutters. Bucky grins. 

 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you- that beard? Really fuckin’ suits you pal. You look, well,  _ nice _ ,” and there’s just enough teasing in his voice for it to be safe, to not really mean anything. But really, that beard  _ does things  _ to Bucky. It makes Steve look…  _ god. Fuck. _

 

_ It’s just for the mission. He’ll probably shave when we get back.  _

 

Bucky, for a second, hopes the mission lasts as long as possible.

 

**___________________________**

 

The house is-

 

“Fuckin’  _ gorgeous, _ ” Steve marvels. Bucky nods in agreement.

 

“When do we meet the neighbors?” He asks, tearing his eyes away from the marble counters.

 

“Well, we’re not supposed to really know Nat, so I think we just have to ‘bump into her’. Everyone else too, I guess. Let things happen organically, you know?”

 

Bucky shrugs, sets the box he’s holding on the kitchen table. Steve is unpacking their silverware. It all feels so domestic, because it  _ is,  _ feels like it could all be  _ real _ -

 

There’s a knock at the door. 

 

Steve moves to answer it. Bucky exhales.  _ Get it together, you dumbass _ .

 

There’s a- a kid at the door. He’s young, probably about fifteen or sixteen. He looks… nervous, too.  _ Flighty. _

 

“Hey, I’m um, I’m Marshall. I live-” He points over his shoulder, across the street. “Over there. My mom heard you were moving in and she said I should- well-  _ here. _ ” He holds something out, a dish.  _ Baked goods. _

 

“Oh. Oh! Well, tell her we say thanks. I’m Elliot, and that’s Lucas,” Steve jerks his shoulder towards Bucky, who’s still standing awkwardly in the kitchen. He waves. Marshall nods back. 

 

“You wanna come in, kid?” Bucky says. He’s sort of shouting. The door’s far away.

 

Marshall kind of flinches, shakes his head sharply. He gives a quick thumbs up, a wave, turns on his heels, and practically  _ runs  _ back towards his house. 

 

Cool. Great. Now the kid’s fucking  _ scared  _ of him,  _ hey mom, one of those gay guys who lives across the street is a real weirdo.  _

 

Steve holds out the pan of whatever-the-fuck towards Bucky.

 

“Cobbler?” He says. Bucky laughs, rolls his eyes. He tries to forget about the kid, his wide eyes, full of something not quite but very akin to  _ panic _ . Bucky absently realizes it probably doesn't have much to do with him. He frowns, but quickly shakes it off.

 

“We gotta finish unpacking first. Or, at least get the bed set up. I ain’t sleeping on the damn floor,  _ Willis.  _ C’mon.”

 

**___________________________**

 

The bed is soft, and big, Bucky feels like he can splay out and not even come close to touching Steve. He doesn’t, of course. He tucks an arm under his pillow and stays on his side. He’s not  _ tense,  _ he’s not  _ rigid,  _ but he’s nervous, and it’s palpable. 

 

“I can go sleep on the couch, Buck,” Steve says softly. 

 

“Can’t have anyone thinking we’re having relationship issues, ya lug. Besides, this ain’t so new, right?”

 

He hears Steve shift, rolling onto his side, facing Bucky’s back. He bites back the urge to roll over and face him, can’t handle looking at Steve’s big, dumb face right now.

 

“We weren’t so big back then,” Steve says. His voice is light, a little fond, a little sad. 

 

“We weren’t, but hey, there’s not much we can do about that, huh?” 

 

Steve nods, Bucky hears it against the pillow. His eyes droop, and he’s so fucking  _ tired. _

 

“G’night, Stevie,” he mumbles.

 

“Goodnight, Buck.”

 

Steve listens to Bucky’s breathing even out, hears his heartbeat slow as he drifts off. His body relaxes, he falls asleep. Something tugs at Steve’s heart. His eyes water as he thinks about how he could  _ have this, always, if only he wasn’t so fucking stupid.  _

 

Or maybe not.

 

Maybe the window has passed.

 

Maybe they really did run out of time. 


	2. sick of that suburban smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gang Attends A Block Party, Bucky makes a new friend, and Natasha is as elusive as ever.

Steve wakes up to his phone ringing. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and reaches towards his nightstand, careful to not jostle the bed too much. Bucky is sleeping (and snoring) next to him, same still, straight position he fell asleep in. 

 

“Hello?” he says quietly.

 

“Steve,” Natasha says, voice cool and controlled like usual.

 

“Oh, hey N- I mean, uh-”

 

“Charlotte. Our phones aren’t tapped, don’t worry. And I called you Steve, anyways, so…“

 

Her voice has the tiniest hint of laughter in it, and Steve buries his face in his pillow. He really is  _ fucking terrible  _ at espionage. 

 

“I just woke up. Leave me alone,” he mumbles. Natasha chuckles. He can picture her, looking starkly out of place in cozy pyjamas, sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee and a book. He almost laughs too, imagining her looking anything close to  _ casual  _ or  _ normal.  _

 

“How’s your boy?” 

 

“Huh?”

 

“You know, Barnes.  _ Lucas,”  _ she practically purrs, and Steve suddenly wants to  _ die.  _

 

“He’s not my- he’s not  _ my boy.  _ God, this whole fuckin’ thing is so-”

 

“Ridiculous?” 

 

Steve nods, despite Natasha not being able to see him. Bucky stirs.

 

“Why’d you call?”

 

“Just wanted to check up on my favorite couple, see how the neighborhood is treating you. Also, there’s a block party today, and Hill wants us there. Greenwald will be in attendance.”

 

He suppresses a groan. 

 

“Make sure to lay the PDA on thick,” she says, then promptly hangs up. 

 

Steve nudges Bucky with his foot, who kicks him,  _ hard _ . Steve punches him in the shoulder. Bucky flips him the bird. 

 

“Get up, asshole.”

 

“That’s no way to talk to you boyfriend, Steven,” Bucky yawns. 

 

“Shut up,” Steve retorts. He sees Bucky grinning.

 

“Nice comeback. What’s the agenda for the day?”

 

“Finish unpacking, return cobbler dish to neighbors, then a block party.”

 

“A  _ what?” _

 

Bucky’s sitting up now, eyes still droopy with sleep, hair mussed and just barely curly. He looks  _ adorable _ , and Steve can’t help but smile. Bucky scowls at him.

 

“It’s like a gathering, I guess? We just gotta show up, play nice, hold hands, stuff like that.”

 

“I gotta tote your ugly mug around the neighborhood, huh?” And he’s grinning again. 

 

“Oh, fuck  _ off,  _ or I’ll find a new date.”

 

And with that, Steve slides off the bed and walks away from Bucky’s fake groveling. His pulse is a bit fast in his wrist, stomach twisting up something odd as it always does when the words  _ Bucky  _ and  _ boyfriend  _ are used in the same conversation. 

 

He busies himself at the coffeemaker, listening to Bucky stumble down the stairs and into the living room. The t.v. switches on. The house is filled with the sounds of a normal suburban morning, something neither Steve nor Bucky have ever really experienced. 

 

**___________________________**

 

The block party is just what one would expect from a vanilla, predominantly white neighborhood. 

 

(“Maybe it’s not because they’re white, maybe they’re all just boring?”

 

“Oh no, it’s the whiteness,” Natasha says, smoothing down her floral print blouse. Steve would call her a hypocrite if he didn’t know that she was  _ right _ .)

 

The kid- Marshall, Bucky reminds him- is there, with his mom (Megan, Steve thinks her name is) and little sister in tow. She gives them warm smiles and pulls her kids over.

 

“Lucas, Elliot! So good to see you. How do you like the neighborhood so far?”

 

“It’s been great, ma’am,” Bucky says, pulling Steve closer by his waist. He gives Megan a dazzling smile and it works like a charm. She melts, turns the slightest bit pink, smiles. Marshall rolls his eyes a little bit, and Steve can hear the  _ Mom, he’s gay _ that the kid is holding back. 

 

“Everyone here sure is real nice,” Steve says, wincing a little bit at how 1940s he sounds. Marshall wrinkles his nose. 

 

_ If someone figures out what’s really going on here, it’s gonna be that kid,  _ Steve thinks. 

 

They make some more small talk. Nothing really sticks in Steve’s brain, he’s so damn jittery because Greenwald is  _ right there  _ and Steve doesn’t have a great track record when it comes to  _ not  _ punching Nazis. Bucky must sense his tension, and squeezes his hip gently. 

 

_ Cool it, punk,  _ he’s saying. 

 

The small sign of affection sends something sweet to Steve’s chest, right in the space his ribs separate. He smiles a little weird at Bucky, and Megan steps off to talk to a friend. Marshall stays behind. 

 

“So… why’d y’all move to Brookwood?”

 

Steve almost chokes. Bucky doesn’t falter. 

 

“Why do ya ask, kid?”

 

“It’s just- and don’t tell my mom I said this -this place is the fucking  _ worst.  _ It’s so goddamn boring, you know? There’s nothing to  _ do.”  _

 

Steve laughs, and Bucky removes his hand from his waist to cover his own mouth. 

 

“And uh, it’s not exactly the most… progressive place. Trust me.”

 

And just like that, Steve feels like he knows Marshall better. This kid who doesn’t even know them has offered up this delicate  _ secret,  _ because he thinks that’s Steve and Bucky are-

 

Well. It’s a bit true, on Steve’s end at least. 

 

“Don’t worry, pal. We’ve dealt with worse places,” Bucky says softly, and Marshall nods. 

 

They’re kind of left alone after that, finding a place on a park bench, watching Natasha mingle with Greenwald. They’re not supposed to talk to him, because they can’t risk Steve fucking the whole thing up with his shitty spy skills. 

 

(“That is  _ not  _ what Hill said.”

 

“I’m paraphrasing, Stevie.”)

 

A little girl waddles up to them, gazing up at Bucky with stars in her eyes. He smiles down at her. 

 

“Your hair’s really long,” she says delicately, in the way that little kids do, picking out her words carefully so she’s understood. 

 

“Sure is, sweetheart.”

 

“Can I-?” she moves her hand in a methodical pattern, and Steve’s heart nearly bursts with fondness. And laughter. 

 

“She’s asking to braid your hair, Lucas,” he wheezes out, watching the warmth almost slip from Bucky’s expression. 

 

“Uh, sure thing, hon. Hop up here, I guess.”

 

He twists his back towards her, facing Steve, frowning deeply when the blond wipes a tear away. 

 

“Stop laughing!”

 

The girl just pokes her tongue out and sets to work, small hands working efficiently and surprisingly quickly. After a few minutes, an exasperated cry comes from a few feet away. 

 

“Annabelle!”

 

They all turn their heads in time to see a very worn out looking woman walking towards them. She scoops Annabelle up and looks at the couple. 

 

“I am  _ so  _ sorry, her sister got braids last week and it’s all she’s wanted to do since, I didn’t realize-“

 

“It’s all right, miss,” Bucky laughs. He shakes the braids out with his fingers, and Annabelle frowns a little. Her brown skin has gone red from getting caught, and she turns to hide her face in her mother’s neck. 

 

“She’s quite talented for her age,” Steve says. His voice is fond, and the mom gives him an easy smile. 

 

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Nicole, and this is Annabelle. My oldest, Nora, is at home.”

 

“I’m Elliot, and this is my boyfriend Lucas,” Steve says. He almost,  _ almost  _ says  _ my boyfriend, Bucky,  _ but catches himself just in time. He’s surprised at how easily the words almost roll off his tongue. Nicole smiles again at the two of them. 

 

“Well, welcome to Brookwood. If you ever want to babysit or need your hair braided, I live in the yellow house on Twilight.”

 

She gives them a wave and walks away, and they’re left alone again. Steve takes Bucky’s hand in his, rests his head on his shoulder. 

 

“Think we can go home yet?” He asks, his voice soft. 

 

Bucky snorts. 

 

“Barely been here an hour, Rogers. But sure. Doesn’t seem like Nat needs back up just yet, anyhow,” Bucky teases, voice equally quiet. 

 

Steve feels that sweetness again, like honey filling up his insides. He’s feather light as they stand up, hands still locked together long after they’ve left the park. 

 

**___________________________**

 

Natasha’s at their door a few hours after they get home. She’s wearing a careful smile, and Steve rolls his eyes. 

 

_ “What?”  _ he says. “What do you want?”

 

“Oh don’t be so rude, Elliot. Just came to check on my new neighbors,” she says smoothly and waltzes in. Bucky looks up at her from his perch on the counter. 

 

“Hey, Nat. What’s up?”

 

“Like I told your boyfriend, I’m just here to say hi. And also to mention that I’m having dinner with Greenwald on Saturday.”

 

“You couldn’t have just texted us?” Steve says. 

 

“Of course not. I wanted to see what you’d done with the place.”

 

They spend their night on the couch, Natasha’s legs in Steve’s lap and her head on the armrest. They never talk about it, but Steve and Bucky both treat Natasha as a sort of little sister, the annoyance merely an act and a fierce sense of protection clearly evident (not the she ever needed it, though).

 

When she finally does leave, they practically crawl into bed, both ready to have this tiring, boring day over with. 

 

“What’d I tell you, pal? The suburbs are worse than war,” Bucky sighs, stretching out indulgently on the soft bed. 

 

“Whatever you say, Buck,” Steve says. He snuggles into his pillow. 

 

“G’night, punk.”

 

“See ya in the morning, jerk.”

 

Bucky dozes off before Steve does again, and Steve allows himself to drink in Bucky in the moonlight. Steve may be a tad repressed, but he’s not  _ blind. _

 

Bucky’s features have melted into something marble-esque, the soft white glow sharpening his angles and highlighting everything important. His high, thick cheekbones, his eyebrows, his almost button nose and his doll lips. He’s beautiful, and Steve itches with the urge to draw him in golds and reds and pinks. To try and capture the absolute masterpiece in front of him. 

 

He rolls into his back and shuts his eyes. He doesn’t let himself think like this, not often. Though he knows it’s okay now, it’s still  _ Bucky.  _ Still his best friend, still the most important person in Steve’s life. 

 

He can’t lose him again. 

 

So he, for what feels like the thousandth time in his life, pushes his feelings down and goes to sleep. 

 

It’s not like Bucky would even feel the same, anyhow.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: i am white. i live in a suburb. i have attended numerous block parties in a predominantly white neighborhood. they are incredibly boring.


End file.
